


Where We Are Together

by blueberrynewt



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Flower Crowns, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Multi, Shore Leave, Sunsets, just some space husbands being soft and loving each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:40:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22137949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueberrynewt/pseuds/blueberrynewt
Summary: Jim, Bones, and Spock take shore leave together in a quiet corner of Rutila VII. They are in love.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy, James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock, James T. Kirk/Spock, Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Comments: 24
Kudos: 175





	Where We Are Together

**Author's Note:**

> hi hi hi! i'm finally back home after many months, which means i SHOULD be getting back to work on my WIPs. and i will, soon. but last night when i sat down to write, i ended up doing this instead. so, enjoy!

“There — you look perfect, Bones. Princely.”

Jim settles the flower crown onto Leonard’s head and leans back to admire his handiwork. They’ve chosen to spend their shore leave in a quiet region of Rutila VII, and their cottage backs up against a meadow full of the most astonishing array of flowers Leonard has ever seen. Jim has gathered an armful of blossoms in every color imaginable, ranging from clusters of tiny pink flowers so small you have to squint to make them out, to bizarre blue-and-green bowls the size of a fist and covered in fine, centimeter-long fur.

Some of the frillier blooms tickle Leonard’s forehead and he touches them without thinking, smiling as Jim sets to work on his own crown. He loves seeing Jim like this: totally absorbed in some frivolous task, cheeks flushed with concentration and delight, his hair a little tousled and glinting in the orangey glow of the Rutilan sun. Leonard lies back on his elbows, careful not to jostle his crown, and crosses his ankles. _I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful day._

Jim straightens and holds up his new creation, peering at Leonard through the circle of flowers and leaves. “All set.” He grins and sets the crown on his head, where it fits perfectly, and his smile softens as he meets Leonard’s gaze. “What are you thinking?”

Leonard doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he leans up and to the left and plants a soft kiss just below Jim’s cheekbone, tilting his head so that their crowns don’t collide. He smiles, too close for Jim to see. “I’m thinking I love you.”

Jim turns his head, kisses Leonard gently on the mouth. His hand drifts up to cradle the back of Leonard’s neck. “I love you, too.”

Rutilan grass is softer than any on earth. Leonard thinks he would like to never leave this place. He leans back just enough to admire the way the flowers frame Jim’s face, and catch the tender expression in Jim’s eyes. It’s enough to make anyone’s heart melt.

 _You’re beautiful_ , he thinks. There is so, so much beauty here.

Jim kisses him on the nose. _So are you, Bones._

***

Spock is fond of sunrises and sunsets. It’s something about duality, about balance. Whenever he has shore leave in a place that has a sun, he takes a long walk every morning at sunrise, alone.

His sunset walks are reserved for Jim.

It’s a longstanding tradition, though Jim can never quite remember how it started. It’s always just the two of them, too. Of course, they would welcome Bones if he ever professed an interest in joining them, but he never has. Bones understands.

Sunsets are for Jim and Spock, and this is a spectacular one. The Rutilan sun sets the whole world ablaze as it sinks behind the hills. Half the sky is painted in streaks of brilliant vermillion, shifting into fuschia and violet and then fading to blue. The last golden rays wash trees and hillsides in an incandescent glow, and Jim has to squint at where the light glances off the surface of a stream. Looking behind him, he can see their little cottage, windows throwing back the sunlight like mirrors. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, slowly.

“Quite a show this evening,” he says, turning back around and falling into step next to Spock.

Spock, hands relaxed at his sides, nods slightly. “Indeed.” He glances over at Jim, and there is enough warmth in his gaze to make Jim miss a step as he walks. “It is lovely.”

“I just want —” Jim stops and tips his head back, looking up at the extraordinary color show above him. “I wish I could just melt away into it, you know? Or else breathe it in and carry it with me everywhere I go.”

Spock looks at him for another second, then up at the sky. “I know what you mean,” he says softly.

They’re quiet for a moment, while the colors begin to fade. When Spock speaks again, his voice is full of things never quite spoken.

“I believe,” he says, “that whenever one pauses to appreciate an experience, a moment, in its entirety, then that moment becomes a part of one’s being.”

Jim looks at him, smiles, nods slowly. “I like that.”

“Come.” Spock holds out his hand to Jim. “We should return home.”

Jim takes Spock’s hand and winds their fingers together. Spock’s hands are always so warm. Jim lifts their joined hands and kisses Spock’s fingers, then looks back at the sky. The first stars are coming out, and he tries to pick out the ones he knows.

He looks back down to the road in front of him, the little cottage glowing in the distance, bright against the gathering darkness. Spock gives his hand a slight squeeze.

 _This is everything_ , Jim realizes.

 _Yes_ , Spock agrees. _Everything is right here._

***

Night has fallen, and the cottage is quiet except for the hum of some local insect, which vibrates through the open windows, and the occasional clink of Leonard’s glass against the coffee table. Jim is in bed, leaving his bondmates to sit together in the dimly lit living room. Spock will not need to meditate for several more hours, and Leonard claims he is not yet tired.

They sit side by side on the couch, not quite touching. Spock examines the stars through the window: they seem brighter than usual. He breathes deeply.

Leonard clears his throat, and Spock turns to examine his bondmate instead. Leonard seems uneasy, rubbing his palms together and worrying at his lip, and Spock hurries to identify and correct the problem. “Is something wrong?”

Leonard glances sideways at him, then looks back down. “It’s hard sometimes, isn’t it? You and me.” He pauses. “We don’t always say things to each other.”

Spock inclines his head. “Such as?”

“Such as —” Leonard purses his lips. “I mean, you know I love you, and I know you love me, but we don’t — we don’t always say it. And I’m not sure why.”

“Would you prefer that we did?”

“I don’t know, I —” Leonard shrugs, a sign of discomfort. “I wish I didn’t feel like it’s hard to say, is all.”

Spock considers that statement for a moment. Then he places his hand, palm up, in the space between them. “Tell me.”

After several seconds, Leonard places his hand, palm down, on Spock’s, then looks him in the eye. “I love you,” he says. His voice only shakes a little.

Spock nods and studies Leonard’s face. “I love you as well,” he replies. “Ashayam.”

Leonard exhales and leans sideways, pillowing his head on Spock’s shoulder. Spock disentangles their hands in order to wrap his arm around his bondmate. Leonard’s breathing slows gradually.

 _Beloved_ , Spock thinks at him. _Go to bed._

Leonard’s eyes are closed. He smiles. _Not just yet._


End file.
